


Greedy

by ravenclawkohai



Series: Psychosis [2]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Delusions, Hallucinations, M/M, Psychosis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 04:53:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18276176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawkohai/pseuds/ravenclawkohai
Summary: An alternate version of Springs and Wolves, where Cloud does not succeed in saving Sephiroth at Nibelheim. This takes place post-original game





	Greedy

It was all supposed to be okay now.

The world was saved. Meteor was plucked from the sky by the Lifestream, Sephiroth was defeated, they were rebuilding. Sure, not everything was perfect; there were mako-crazed monsters that had fed off the Lifestream while it was on the surface. Midgar was in tatters—but maybe that was for the best, too. Rufus and the Turks even survived, though Cloud still couldn’t decide if he was glad for it or not.

In his logical mind, he knew that age-old problems wouldn’t disappear just because the other big ones had been solved. His psychosis had plagued him his whole life, there was no sensible reason why it should go away now. But somewhere along the line, it had become so caught up with Sephiroth, that it seemed almost wrong to still experience the symptoms without him. Through half of the mad chase around the world, Cloud hadn’t been able to tell what was actually Sephiroth and what was just his mind. He hadn’t been convinced the man was actually back until the others had seen him, told him time and again it was real.

It had been nasty, humiliating to have to explain to them why he’d thought nothing of hearing his voice for so long—even Tifa hadn’t known about his symptoms. There had been a myriad of reactions to the truth, from Aeris’s quiet acceptance, to Barret’s blatant discomfort, to Cid swearing and promising to help in turns. He had only ever told Zack and Sephiroth in the past. Zack had been ready to help in a heartbeat, all easy acceptance and warmth. Sephiroth had just been glad to not be alone in their brand of hell anymore.

They were all the experience he had, but at the time, he didn’t remember, not really. He remembered Sephiroth, remembered scraps of their time together, part of what they were to each other, remembered their shared experiences. But he had lost Zack, using his memory like a cloak to keep himself safe, forgetting him in the process. He only remembered that he had told Sephiroth, and that Sephiroth had accepted him because he experienced the same. For understandable reasons, it was with no small amount of trepidation that he approached AVALANCHE with the truth. Even after the truth had come out, things were strained for a long time as the others adjusted to the idea, some with more ease than others.

To this day, he wasn’t quite sure what all had been his mind playing tricks and what had actually been Sephiroth, only that at least some of it had to be the man himself. All he knew was that Sephiroth was dead, _truly_ dead this time, but he still saw him _everywhere_.

He would see the man in crowds, only to double take and find him gone. Any collection of shadows was liable to look like a familiar leather outfit. The creak of wind through Seventh Heaven sounded like the call of his name. And those were just the ones easily explained away.

He grew accustomed to the way arms settled around his shoulders, hands splaying across his heart and throat in a possessive embrace. The feeling of lips against his ear as whispered words snaked through him. Sephiroth loved to comment on his life, to remind him of all the times he had failed, that his friends didn’t need or want him, that only one person had ever wanted him and he was _right here_ , why wasn’t he paying more attention? This was not the Sephiroth he had fallen in love with so many years ago. This was the one who had fallen in Nibelheim, who was obsessed with the only human he had ever truly felt kinship with. This was the Sephiroth who was determined to drag him down with him, to own him in any and every way, by any means necessary. This was the one who called him puppet instead of lover.

The wolf had returned, at long last. It hadn’t been there during his time with AVALANCHE—his only guess was that they helped enough that he wasn’t necessary. But AVALANCHE had split off for the most part, only Tifa and Cloud really staying together, and it wasn’t enough anymore. It certainly wasn’t enough now that his hallucinations weren’t aimless warping of walls and floors or even disembodied voices. The monster that kept him up at night was intimate and tore at every part of him in a way no hallucination had before.

Because there was a part of him that longed for it to be real. It would be bad, yes, terrible, for it to be true, he knew that. Sephiroth had devolved into a menace, a terror that plagued the world, that would destroy it if left to his own devices. But, though the days before Nibelheim were foggy, there was a part of him that remembered what was. The nights spent in the man’s bed, the times where his arms were the safest place in the world, the way no one else had ever brought him as much comfort. The way his love for him was written in his very blood and bones, irrevocably a part of him. That part longed for any scrap of the man he loved, and at some point, even the twisted mockery became better than nothing.

He knew he should tell his friends. Talking about what was happening, reaching out for support, was one of his best ways of coping. His only real way of coping, if he was honest. But part of him got greedy. He told himself the hallucinations were safe, they weren’t real, so what harm could they do? The poison Sephiroth hissed in his ear might tear at the heart of him, but at least he wouldn’t forget the sound of his voice. There was no fear that came with these hallucinations, only a fierce longing—though that longing scared him. He had not forgotten Meteor. He had not forgotten what Sephiroth was capable of. Only, well, the longing didn’t hurt anyone. There was no way to fulfill it. Sephiroth was dead. This was safe. It was only hurting him.

The wolf tried time and again to convince him otherwise, but at this point, he didn’t really _want_ the wolf’s help. It tried to talk over Sephiroth, and as long as he was alone, he would shush it. That led to more than one argument about it, but in the end, Cloud just resorted to ignoring the wolf, who couldn’t do much about that. It tried to bite at Sephiroth’s coat and hand and Cloud would swat it away. He knew it was getting increasingly frustrated with him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had lost Sephiroth too many times, he wasn’t going to let anything tear them apart this time.

The only time the wolf left was when it saw things getting a little too intimate. After all, even when there hadn’t been an actual bed available, he had always been in Sephiroth’s. Even on the road, even with Meteor in the sky, Sephiroth had always found a way to find him, and even then he hadn’t been able to turn him away.

Cloud wasn’t entirely sure of how it actually worked, or what it would have looked like to others. But there were times where Sephiroth would step from the shadows of his bedroom and approach, stalk toward him, and he would back up from the sheer intensity in his gaze, right until the back of his knees hit the bed. He stilled, and Sephiroth closed the gap, sliding one hand up to and around his throat.

He leaned in, breathed deeply of Cloud’s scent, and whispered, “Pretty puppet,” in his ear before his tongue flicked against the shell of it.

Cloud shivered, every part of him going weak, going pliant under Sephiroth’s touch.

Sephiroth guided him back and down to the bed, pinning him by the throat to the mattress. He slipped between his legs, urging them to spread wider, wider. His free hand slid up and under Cloud’s shirt, gliding over the smooth plane of his abs, brushing over a nipple and earning a gasp that brought a smirk to his lips. Cloud couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sephiroth’s, didn’t dare move. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he did, only that he was afraid this might end, and would do anything to prolong it.

Something of that must have been written across his face, because Sephiroth’s smirk grew, grew possessive and fierce. The hand around his throat squeezed, cutting off his air, and Cloud’s eyes fluttered shut. He tried not to fight it, a foolish part of him trusting that Sephiroth wouldn’t kill him, but eventually his lips parted, trying to gasp for air. It was then that Sephiroth leaned down to kiss him, plundering his mouth in a way that was filthy, obscene. He couldn’t even manage to kiss back, not with the way the world was growing fuzzy and distant around him.

At the last possible moment, Sephiroth’s grip loosened, and Cloud gasped desperately against his mouth. Sephiroth remained where he was, watching Cloud closely, letting him pull the air from his lungs. He stilled long enough for Cloud to catch his breath before kissing him again, and this time Cloud was able to return to the motion, even if his efforts were weak and kittenish.

The hand that was buried up under Cloud’s shirt slid back down, turned, came to lay over Cloud’s growing hardness. He was still coming back to his senses, too far gone to even blush at the motion.

“Always the masochist, Cloud. Or perhaps only the masochist for me.”

“Anything for you,” he breathed back, nothing thinking at all about the words that fell from his lips.

What he did think about was the warm chuckle that he felt puff against the skin of his neck, that raised goosebumps that spread across his body. He felt a curl of warmth in his stomach at the sound. He felt Sephiroth’s first hand tighten just a hair over his throat, the second matching the motion over his cock. The way he pulled in air was sharp.

Sephiroth set one knee against the mattress, grabbed Cloud under the arms, and as easy as breathing, tossed him further up the mattress. Cloud caught the headboard in his hands to keep from going too far, but it was unnecessary, as he landed perfectly with his head on the pillows.

Before he could realize what had happened, Sephiroth was there again, yanking Cloud’s belt from its loops.

“Perfect, you know just what’s wanted of you,” he purred.

Before Cloud knew what had happened, Sephiroth had expertly tied his hands to the headboard. Gloved hands still clasped over Cloud’s, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Cloud’s neck.

He whispered in his ear, “Now we both know you can break that, but you’ll behave for me, won’t you?”

With a whine in the back of his throat, Cloud nodded.

“Good boy,” Sephiroth praised, licking a long stripe up Cloud’s throat as the blond obediently tilted his head back, allowing Sephiroth more room.

Sephiroth leaned away, sat back on his heels and admired his work. Cloud, tied to the bed, his shirt pulled up as far as it would go, his legs spread wide, pants tenting in front. A pretty blush spread across his fair cheeks. Cloud knew it would have been a familiar sight to Sephiroth, something he’d seen dozens of times before. That didn’t stop the hunger from alighting in those green eyes.

Cloud could only watch as Sephiroth ran his hands over every inch of him, mapping the lines of his body, as if he wasn’t already familiar enough to have it memorized. It would have been reverent, almost worshipful, if it wasn’t so possessive, so greedy. The glance of leather against his skin raised goosebumps and sent chills fluttering through him, the touch sometimes feather-light, sometimes hard enough to bruise. From time to time, Sephiroth would dip his head to kiss, to lick his skin, and every time he did, his eyes would flick up to Cloud’s, watching himself being watched, and his lips would curl at the edges.

Cloud wasn’t sure how long Sephiroth spent exploring him, only that he was painfully hard by the time Sephiroth slipped his hands under his shirt and, almost casually, ripped it away. He pulled away enough to tug at Cloud’s waistband, and Cloud obediently lifted his hips without prompting to let pants and boxers be tugged away. He watched Sephiroth’s gaze drift over him, heavy-lidded, his hands returning to his revealed skin, pale flushed pink. He seemed determined to touch everywhere except where Cloud wanted him.

Cloud could only take so much before he quietly said, “Please, Sephiroth.”

Sephiroth didn’t even deign to look up at him as he said, “Please what, puppet?”

He had to bite back his noise of frustration, and by the knowing look on Sephiroth’s face, he wasn’t subtle in his restraint.

“Please, Sephiroth, I need you.”

“You need me,” Sephiroth repeated, dragging his hands down Cloud’s sides and ghosting over his hips, causing Cloud to hiss in a sharp inhale. So close. “What do you need?”

“You.”

“ _Cloud_.” Sephiroth still hadn’t met his eyes, but the admonishment was clear.

“Please, I need you to—touch me.”

“I am touching you, Cloud.”

He finally let out that noise of frustration. Sephiroth smirked.

“Touch my—my cock. Please.”

Sephiroth finally looked up at him. During the entire chase around the world, his eyes had been so cold, so terribly cold, but they were burning hot now.

“There, was that so hard?”

Sephiroth dragged the tip of his index finger from the base of Cloud’s cock to the tip, swiping away a bead of precum. Still making eye contact, he held the finger to Cloud’s lips, and he didn’t think, just accepted the digit into his mouth. He sucked, swirling his tongue around him, the taste of himself heavy on his tongue, and Sephiroth’s gaze was so heated as he watched that Cloud thought it might burn him.

He pulled his finger from Cloud’s lips and trailed it down Cloud’s cock again. His fingers traced over him, just ghosting over the skin in a way that was distinctly _not_ what Cloud wanted, despite being what he technically asked for. The stimulation was there, but it was nowhere near enough. It was a slow torture, and Cloud could only take it for so long before he dug his head back into the pillows with a strangled noise sounding low in his throat.

The chuckle it earned was warm.

Cloud’s eyes remained closed as he fought off every instinct to just tear off the belt and get the job done himself. Every time his hips twitched up, there was a firm hand pressing them back down. His cock twitched helplessly where it lay against his belly.

“ _Please_ , Sephiroth, I need mo— _ore!_ ”

He couldn’t even finish begging before he felt warm, wet heat envelop him. He looked down sharply to see Sephiroth, cheeks hollow, sucking long and hard on his cock. He groaned desperately, eyes rolling back, and let his head fall back against the pillow, his hips jerking up but not getting very far before they were pinned to the mattress again. The relief was so sweet he nearly sobbed.

But it was short-lived, and he couldn’t stop the sound of loss in the back of his throat.

He wasn’t necessarily a proud man, but he would happily have thrown the lost scraps of his dignity out the window to feel Sephiroth’s mouth on him again.

He was too lost in his frustration to notice immediately as his legs were spread further, didn’t notice the cool slickness at his entrance, but certainly noticed two fingers, enough to sting, press inside him. He let out a low groan as they slipped inside, a sound Sephiroth devoured, lips claiming his again in a kiss that seared. Sephiroth kissed him long and hard as he prepared him, as he kept fingering him long after he was ready, just to breathe in the sounds he made when Sephiroth crooked his fingers inside him. He was mewling and writhing against the mattress before Sephiroth pulled away, looking down at him with those scalding hot eyes as he withdrew his fingers.

Sephiroth shifted, settling in perfectly between Cloud’s legs. One hand held himself, ready to press into Cloud, the other spread possessively over Cloud’s heart. He took stock of the situation with one swift gaze, and finding Cloud not only ready but eager, was satisfied enough to press forward and slide inside.

Cloud sucked in a breath slowly through his teeth, feeling himself stretch around Sephiroth, feeling himself be filled. Sephiroth stilled inside him, letting him adjust, but at this point, Cloud was impatient. He had been taunted and teased, he was hard enough to ache, and he was damn tired of waiting. He wrapped his legs around Sephiroth’s hips and pulled him as close as he would go in encouragement.

The chuckle Sephiroth gave was fond.

“Very well, puppet, I can take a hint.”

He pulled back and then thrust forward, sharp and strong, and Cloud gasped, clutching at the headboard desperately. The wood creaked dangerously beneath his fingers. After making sure Cloud was paying perfect attention, he began fucking him slow, his thrusts shallow, keeping himself almost entirely buried inside the blond. The headboard creaked again as Cloud’s grip tightened, his chest heaving as he panted. He looked up at Sephiroth, his eyes heavy-lidded, and did his best to plead with his eyes alone. Sephiroth quirked an eyebrow at him. He did nothing more to respond.

Cloud pinched his eyes shut and groaned in frustration.

“Gods, Sephiroth, please!”

“I thought we’d been over this already.”

“Please fuck me!”

“That’s what I’m doing, Cloud.”

“ _Harder_ , Sephiroth, _please_.”

Sephiroth still pulled out slowly, a torturous drag of only a few inches, still so shallow, before snapping his hips forward. Cloud’s eyes rolled back with a moan at that first thrust, but it was so slow, still teasing, and it wasn’t enough. He was so frustrated, so desperate, he let out one broken sob. Sephiroth sighed in satisfaction at the sound.

“Sephiroth, I don’t know how else to beg you, please stop teasing me and just _fuck me_.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“I’m afraid I don’t. How would you like me to fuck you, Cloud? In detail.”

Cloud lifted his head to glare at Sephiroth, who only looked smug. He snapped his hips forward to make a point, knocking a breath out of Cloud, who deflated. It took a couple more thrusts to remind Cloud of just how desperate he was before he opened his mouth again.

“I want you to fuck me _hard_ and _deep_ and _fast_ and— _oh!_ ”

“There it is,” Sephiroth purred, finally finding the angle he wanted. “I’ll take your request into consideration.”

Sephiroth slowed, dragging himself in and out of Cloud, right over that spot inside him that made him see stars. The wood of the headboard groaned in Cloud’s grip. He panted, holding on for what felt like dear life at this point.

“Sephiroth, _please_.”

“Let me think on it.”

“ _Sephiroth_.”

“Don’t be in such a rush, Cloud.”

“You’re cruel.”

“I am.”

There was nothing else to be done. Cloud had begged in every way he knew how, didn’t know how else to ask or plead. He felt entirely helpless as he dug his head back into the pillows. His arms trembled with the restraint of not just crushing the headboard in his fists. It wasn’t long before all of him was trembling, his stomach wet from how much he was leaking against it. He sobbed in frustration.

He opened his mouth to try one last-ditch attempt at begging, but that seemed to be exactly what Sephiroth was waiting for. He began fucking him in earnest, hard and deep and fast, just the way Cloud had asked for.

It was overwhelming. This time, when Cloud sobbed, it was out of pleasure. Every thrust struck that spot inside him, and he moaned loudly enough that he was distantly glad that no one else was home. His moaning was outright wanton, could be mistaken for nothing else, and it seemed to please Sephiroth immensely.

“Pretty puppet, coming undone under my hand, and only my hand. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

Cloud wasn’t thinking, didn’t need to think, just breathed, “Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

Cloud could barely speak, panting out his answers.

“Forever.”

“Always.”

“Good. I’ll never let anyone else have you. Never.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else. It’s always been you. It always will be you.”

“Good boy. And good boys get rewarded, don’t they?”

“Sephiroth?”

“Never say I’m not a generous god.”

Sephiroth pulled one hand from where he had been clutching Cloud’s hips hard enough to bruise and began stroking him. Cloud sobbed in pleasure again. It was overstimulating. It was far too much. It was just enough.

Cloud came quick and hard and with a cry of Sephiroth’s name. Sephiroth did not miss a beat, did not wait or hesitate for him, had no fear of overstimulating him. He just kept on fucking him, seeking his own release now that he was done torturing Cloud. Cloud, who looked up to Sephiroth, painting a perfect picture of innocence debauched. Sephiroth met his gaze, green on unknowing green, and licked Cloud’s spend from his hand slowly. The quiet sound Cloud made was strangled. The sight threatened to make him hard again.

Once his hand was clean, Sephiroth reached up and took a hold of Cloud’s throat. He squeezed slowly.

“Let’s see what happens first. Either I’ll come, or you’ll pass out. I wonder which it will be?”

Cloud knew he was good for his word, that in the event he did pass out, Sephiroth would just continue until he did come, and who knew if he’d still be there when Cloud awoke. The thought of Sephiroth continuing to use him made his spent cock twitch against his stomach as the world grew dark at the edges.

Before the whole world could go dark, Sephiroth stilled buried deep inside him, and Cloud could feel himself being filled to the brim. Sephiroth let go of his throat, and Cloud gasped for air, only to have his mouth smothered again in a kiss. He fought to breath against the kiss, but Sephiroth didn’t give him enough time to catch his breath. His chest burned and things started to grow dark again before Sephiroth pulled away, watching with satisfied eyes as Cloud gasped desperately for breath. He pressed one quick kiss to the side of Cloud’s neck, ringed now in a collar of bruises, and slid out of him.

“Until next time, puppet.”

“Sephiroth, no, wait—” he gasped, the words weak, not quite having enough air yet to talk.

He sat up and reached out as he spoke, but already, Sephiroth was gone.

Sephiroth was gone, and had left him tied to the headboard.

Cloud sighed and flopped back on the bed. He shivered as he felt Sephiroth dripping out of him. He lay there for a long, long moment, feeling satisfied but trying not to think too closely about what had just happened. About whether or not any of it had been real. Whether Sephiroth was really back and he should be concerned, or if this was just another ghost his brain had conjured for him. A ghost that fucked him fantastically.

Cloud sighed a second time and broke himself free, ruining his belt in the process. He went to go get cleaned up, hoping he could get rid of any evidence before the wolf came back and gave him that damned knowing look.

For a wolf, he was expressive. He sure knew how to shame him with only his eyes.


End file.
